


Big Brother

by Boton



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Kid!Lock, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Pre-Canon, back story, infant!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 03:50:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7602241
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boton/pseuds/Boton
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The fluffy little tale of how Mycroft became a big brother and started taking his job very, very seriously.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Big Brother

**Author's Note:**

  * For [](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts), [maryagrawatson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/maryagrawatson/gifts).



> This story is for afinecollector, who has me thinking about how much I like the relationship between Sherlock and Mycroft. It is also for maryagrawatson, who convincingly argued that the Holmes parents are absolutely Maggie and Bill, in complete defiance of fanfic convention.
> 
> Disclaimer: Sherlock Holmes and his universe are the creation of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Sherlock is the creation of the BBC and its partners, and of co-creators Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss. This work is for my pleasure and that of my readers; I am not profiting from the intellectual property of those creators listed above.

“I don’t see why we weren’t allowed to accompany Mummy to the delivery room; I have read up on both the basic biology and the process of delivering a child, and I would have understood everything.”

A seven-year-old Mycroft Holmes stood at his father’s elbow, alternately wheedling and giving coherent, fact-based arguments against his exclusion from the event of his new brother’s birth. Bill Holmes leaned his head back against the wall of the maternity department waiting room, observing his eldest child. Mycroft was so often like this, alternating between acting like a child and acting like an adult. Bill wondered how long it would be before Mycroft’s precocious nature completely took over, eliminating the child in him forever.

“Well, Mykie,” he began. “It’s not really about understanding the biology. Sometimes, it can be difficult to watch someone you love be in pain. Your mother understands that, and she wanted us to wait here,” he said. Maggie had been insistent on that point; she was fine with her husband and son being with her while she labored, but, like so many other projects in her life, she wanted to minimize distraction when it came time to really focus.

“But Father, we’ve been waiting for two hours!” Mycroft complained. “The average duration of the transition phase of labor ending in birth is 60 minutes; Mummy should be done by now.”

Again, Bill turned to his son. “There are other things that need to happen before your mother will be ready to see us,” he said. “And even your mother can’t make childbirth conform to one of her famous schedules,” he laughed.

Just then, a nurse stepped into the room. “Mr. Holmes?” she said. Both Bill and Mycroft looked up. “Mrs. Holmes and your son are doing just fine; they’d like to see you.”

Bill and Mycroft rushed into the room, where Margaret Holmes sat propped up in bed, a little disheveled but looking content, holding a tiny, fleece-wrapped bundle. Bill rushed to the side of the bed and sat beside his wife and new son, wrapping them both in his arms.

The new baby was, as most babies are, a squirming, red-faced, wrinkled being, with just a couple of damp curls of dark hair on the top of his head. Bill stroked the tiny curls back and murmured, “Hello, Will.” He then turned to his wife and kissed her forehead.

“Another brilliant job, Maggie,” he said, as his wife chuckled. “Harder than my last book, but needed fewer footnotes,” she laughed.

“What did you call him?” Mycroft asked, bouncing on his toes as he stood at the edge of the bed, trying to get a better look at his new brother.

“William Sherlock Scott Holmes,” Maggie said. “But since your father is already Bill, we’ll call him Will.”

“I’ll call him Sherlock,” Mycroft said definitively.

“Oh, why’s that?” Bill asked.

“I’m the only Mycroft in my class at school; he’ll want to be the only Sherlock. Less confusing.”

“I see,” Maggie said. “OK, since you’re making so many important decisions, I think it’s time to tell you that you now have a very important job ahead of you.”

Mycroft pulled himself up to his full height; in spite of the baby fat still rounding his cheeks, he had once again assumed the demeanor of an adult man. “Yes, Mummy?”

Maggie continued, “You’re a big brother now. That means your job is to always take care of Will –“

“Sherlock,” Mycroft interrupted.

Maggie continued without comment, “and make sure he is safe. You have to help me teach him right from wrong and make sure he learns all the things you know. Big brothers are very, very important.”

Mycroft nodded solemnly, while Bill slid from the bed and walked around to seat Mycroft in the room’s rocking chair.

“First big brother lesson,” he said, taking the baby from his wife and placing him carefully in Mycroft’s arms, showing him how to support the baby’s head. The baby screwed up his face at the change of position and the new set of arms, but he quickly wriggled into a comfortable position and quieted down.

There was so much to teach him, Mycroft mused. Mycroft already had seven years of experience, and Sherlock had none. He didn’t know how to read a book or how to do a math problem. He didn’t know that there was a path through the small woods on their property that led to a fascinating stream, or how to slide down the bannister when Mummy and Father weren’t looking. He would have to show him everything if Sherlock were going to catch up.

Almost as if he could hear his older brother’s thoughts, Sherlock made a small, newborn squeak before starting to drop off to sleep. As he did, Mycroft leaned down and whispered in Sherlock’s ear, “I’ll always be there for you. That’s my job.”

**Author's Note:**

> Man, I don't even *like* kid!lock stories all that much! But I'm just convinced that someone told Mycroft early on that Sherlock was his responsibility, and he's never yet given up on the job. :-)


End file.
